Quest Added
by Kalvin Edward Rumwyn
Summary: Earl awakes in the wastes beyond Night Vale and, despite the fact that angels do not exist, must join forces with Marcus Vansten, who is an angel.
1. The Conquering Hero

Scoutmaster Earl Harlan could claim to have seen shit to make anyone cringe. This, however, had reached a new cringe-worthy level.

Earl raised his head, spitting out sand and took a few deep breaths to get the sand out of his lungs. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sun, vaguely remembering being dragged off by . . . children, wasn't it? A shadow blotted out the sun and Earl froze.

Staring down at the scoutmaster was an angel.

Earl never considered himself a bad guy, so he reached up to see if it was a hallucination. He made a mental note to get himself some water when he could. Earl watched as his fingers touched and the face of the angel resisted.

"Get your filthy fingers out of my face before I bite them off, Early Bird."

Earl jerked his hand back and decided that hallucinations did certainly not speak. Hallucinations also did certainly not sound like Marcus Vansten. Earl sat up finally and the angel glided over to lean on a nearby cactus. Earl thought it was certainly a hallucination because _everyone _knew cactus bite.

"Where am I?" Earl asked. When did the sun get so cold?

"Outside of Night Vale," the Marcus-sounding angel replied with a shrug of his shoulders and all three pairs of wings. "It's all the same wasteland out here."

"Who are you, exactly?" Earl asked, groaning as he stood and dusted off his uniform. "You sound an awful lot like an old rival of mine."

The angel made a noise that was half-chuckle and half-purr and lifted his head to stare at Earl. He hovered with perfect posture and folded his arms as best he could behind his back. Then the angle said simply, "Peasant."

"Marcus!" Earl growled. Earl now didn't care if angels existed or not. He was going to punch Marcus, even if he was hallucinating wildly. Maybe Earl would even rip those stupid feathers away from Marcus' eyes so he could gouge one out.

"Now, now," Marcus purred. "No need for violence, Early Bird. We have things to do, places to be, people to . . . save."

Earl growled, but he did follow the finger, Marcus extended. As Earl stared, he saw people stirring, but not in the usual way. He squinted and took a half-step forward, almost tripping over his binoculars.

He scooped them up, hearing Marcus made that odd chuckle and Earl stared down at the little desert town. He saw the corporation logo plastered everywhere and growled.

"My thoughts exactly, Early Bird."

"Shut up, Marcus. I don't need you to give me a stupid pet name and tease me about everything," Earl replied, lowering binoculars and rolling his eyes.

"You'll need help to save the princess in the tower," Marcus pointed out. "Cecil's locked in that radio station and his boyfriend misses him ever so much, noble knight."

"I hate you so goddamn much," Earl sighed. "How should we do this?"

"Find the Girl Scouts and team them up with your own Boy Scouts," Marcus told him. "I should find the others, but I think you need me more."

"I do not!" Earl snapped, sighing and going to the edge of the small cliff. He leapt down, careful to avoid loose rocks, and found himself cornered by cactus. Earl stiffened, ready to face his death rather than admit he needed help.

Instead, Earl found himself lifted over the cactus and set carefully in a safe, cactus-free spot. Marcus landed gracefully, inspecting his nails.

"I hate you so goddamn much, Marcus," Earl muttered.

"I could say its mutual, but we don't exactly have time for feelings, Early Bird," Marcus pointed out. "So, we need to go round up your brats."

Earl huffed, turning and walking toward Night Vale. Marcus drifted silently behind him, smirking. Earl had never wanted to punch Marcus as badly as he did then.


	2. Into the Valley of Death

Earl hated only one thing more than Marcus Vansten. The one thing revealed itself as the feeling of being lifted long distances from the ground and places in precarious niches on tall structures. From Marcus' stupid purr-chuckle, Earl guessed it was Marcus' favourite thing.

Earl, trying not to plummet from the water tower, secured himself a position where he could survey the odds they were up against. Marcus, meanwhile, lazed about in the fading evening sun.

"Could you be any more useless?" Earl snapped, watching another StrexCorp truck pass by the radio tower. A cold feeling latched claws into Earl's gut, whispering the name worry into his ear. A golden feather drifted down and Earl snatched it, not wanting to draw attention to their hiding place.

"I could have dropped you," Marcus purred, stretching his wings and laying like a cat. "Oh dark lords, this spot is no nice. I'll have to come here naked sometime."

"Disgusting," Earl muttered. He kept watching through the binoculars.

Finally, the scoutmaster found a child, a single Girl Scout, led toward the building. A woman with a plastic smile and suit handed the girl a megaphone.

"That's Janice!" Earl told the angel.

"Who?" Marcus asked, head rising ever so slightly.

"Cecil's niece. She's a Girl Scout," Earl filled in the angel, rolling his eyes. "They must be keeping the kids somewhere. We have to watch and figure out where."

"You mean _you_ have to watch," Marcus replied, head lowering. After a few minutes, the angel gave a snore.

"Damn useless," Earl muttered, watching.

The lady in the skirt smiled, Janice shook her head. A man who was not tall and a man who was not short each took an arm, putting Janice in the backseat of the truck. Earl's heart dropped, but he watched, plotting the course of the truck and how to follow it without getting caught.

Earl shifted and, in less than a heartbeat, hands gripped his upper arms. Earl huffed and let Marcus place him on top of a rather tall building. He could get better surveillance of the truck, but noted sun spots were non-existent.

Marcus yawned and stretched, all six wings extending to their fullest, as he mumbled, "Go on, hero."

Earl nodded and watched the truck. He found it headed not for the juvenile detention centre, which would make sense, but to an ominous building constructed exactly where the library used to stand. Earl shuddered slightly and turned to nod at Marcus, who was watching with what Earl could best interpret as mild amusement.

"Ready, hero?" Marcus asked, making the purr-chuckle again.

Earl nodded slightly and replied, "We just have to wait for that truck to leave."

Marcus shrugged all his limbs and replied, "Yes, oh great knight Early Bird."

Earl huffed and turned, watching and worrying over Janice's safety. Once the truck was filled up with the men, Earl told him, "Let's go, Marcus."`

"Where's the magic word?"

"Please."

"No, but I'll take it."

Earl became acquainted again with the sensation of being lifted. He wondered if ravens did this to their prey. Then Earl noticed the ground was rushing a bit faster at him than he would have liked. He yelped and, ten feet off the ground, felt a jolt and heard a half-purr, half-chuckle.

"I hate you so much," Earl muttered.

Marcus set Earl down gently and landed next to him. The angel asked, "Did you really think I would drop you, Early Bird?"

"Well, when the ground is rushing toward you, that's probably the only thing people think about," Earl snapped, turning to face the concrete prison. "Do you think they kept the Librarians?"

Marcus shuddered at the thought, growling, "I hope not."

Earl sighed, walking up the gravel path. He was going into a stone block of death with a useless companion. Hopefully, Janice would be safe.

Earl turned the door handle and stepped into the dark, dangerous unknown. Marcus glided inside behind him and, when the door shit, there was only a slight glow from Marcus' feathers.

Earl swallowed and forced himself to proceed.


End file.
